Entreat Me Not: Year One
by frigginapplepie
Summary: The Marauders: four boys that have managed to find similar ground despite the most obvious of differences. Trials and tribulations have only brought them closer they seem the most inseperatable of all groups known in the Wizarding world. But how did it ha


Moony, Steph, Matt, Fire - betas

I "Entreat me not to abandon, or to return, from denying the rightfulness of mischief, for where you prank, I prank; and where you're caught, I'm caught. Your allies will be my allies, and your enemies are my own. A detention served on your behalf is one I too shall perform. If these vows do I deny, may Merlin do with us what his will demands." /I 

The promise we made was much more than simple, and that is to say the least. More than words had been involved, and more than a simple promise was created that night in the Astronomy Tower. Through the ink scribbles left on the once blank sheet of parchment, an unbreakable oath had been made; a pact of sorts, whose consequences for denying and abandoning were left unsaid, presented as a toy of the imagination, if you will.

The quill had been set on the floor and forgotten, left to be found by someone who knew much less about its history through the night than he or she should. The hazel of my eyes flickered from the first of my best friends' face to the next, finally settling on the last and smiled bleakly. As we all sat in a tight circle around the paper that served as our binding, the wind that whipped the heights of the building and unsettled our hair, sending chills up our spines, no longer seemed something to take notice of.

It was odd, and in more than one way, that such a diverse assortment of people all placed in the same house – more than likely not by chance, but fate – could become such close friends, leaning on each other more than anyone could imagine. More than once have I intruded upon the mutterings of the confused, of those that have no more understanding of our relationship than I do of the Dark Lord and his ways, though where their curiosity comes from is more than understandable.

Having finally left the protection of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the hushed whispers seemed to find ways to follow us. Each of us, I am sure, have times and moments when we have nothing better to do than to wonder why it is that we still find condolence in each other when there were obviously better choices out there. It still remained an ambiguity that Purebloods from noble families could become as reliant as they were on half-bloods, but we were.

I too, even when around my greatest of companions, have to admit we were a ragtag bunch of kids when we first started spending time with one another, and we hadn't gotten much better by the time we left. Hell, we even gave ourselves a name, and it was something that we were more than proud of: The Marauders.

So many things, both obvious and deeper in meaning, came to symbolize what we stood for. Chief among these things is the fact that despite the lack of even ground upon which each of us tread, common terrain was found between solitude, curiosity, mystery, and arrogance.

Directly across from me in our tight circle, Remus Lupin, the effigy of seclusion in a world of cliques and groups, sat, his blue eyes darting from a candle near the parchment to each of our faces. Surely he thought it was odd that we, nineteen years of age and full-fledged Wizards in our community, were still doing the same stupid things that we would have done if we were still in school. A part of me felt the same way as his face read: out of place in a world that needed a little more light to see through the bleak darkness.

He was always the voice of reason while we attended the school that played host as our home for seven short and much loved years. To say that he was strict and always followed the rules is an injustice to him, to Moony. He was every bit the prankster that we were, only a bit more cautious and less willing to do something that endangered another. The scar that had formed across the bridge of his nose, the origin of which the Marauders knew all to well, was testimony enough to the fact that he was an eager rule breaker – even though the fair majority of the ideas and schemes thought up weren't fully his idea.

Next to him, on my left-hand side, Peter Pettigrew sat, picking up a rock to examine it, possibly trying to date back how long ago it had come to settle upon the Astronomy Tower. He was always the inquisitive one, never wanting to leave questions unanswered, even if they were simple and unnecessary to understand. It was because of him that all of our pranks were as good as they could get, whether it's believable or not; he was the one to question further and further until there was nothing left to doubt.

Just about everyone, and it was more than obvious, thought that Peter was the odd one out, that we called him Wormtail for the noticeable reasons, but these things only hold true to those that didn't know the boy like we did. Sure, Pete had his off days – and they came more often than they did for any of us, that's for sure – but he was always there for us. He was the one that fine-tuned things and figured out what was wrong with a situation, and knew how to make it better long before Remus even began considering it. I wouldn't go so far as to say that he was a genius with these things, but he has much more in his head than he's given credit for.

Turning my head with a wrinkle of my nose – how could Wormtail be so in to that rock? – my eyes caught Sirius Black's own for a matter of a moment before he returned to twirling his wand between his fingers, a habit that he had picked up in his sixth year. In a way, I marveled at how much of my best mate had changed, and at the same time, how much had stayed the same. I'm envious of that, in a way; he's able to keep hold of the parts of him that made him the Padfoot we've all come to know and love, and yet he was still capable of shedding the bits and pieces of his past that clung to him without relent.

He was a dynamic to be reckoned with, that's for sure. It was not only because he seemed to always have that buoyant, childlike energy about him that never seemed to fade away, no matter how long he had been up and moving, but because he had an air about him that brought anyone else around him into the same sort of spirit. It was amazing that he had turned out the way that he did, seeing as he had a rough time growing up. It's great to think that he's managed to swerve off to a path of his own, the one that we all seem to comprehend as the right way. Sirius has his share of ups and downs, nonetheless, and he can be slightly immature, but that's balanced out in the end by his endearing will to do anything for his friends.

And then there was me: James Potter, more commonly known as Prongs to the Marauders. Somehow, I think I've managed to find the balance between Remus' regard for the rules, Peter's undying sense of curiosity, and Sirius' rebellious, hyper-active side. Of course, that wasn't the only thing that made me who I was; I had added my own touch of arrogance, and an undeniable sense of Quidditch skill.

I had to fight with myself to keep from laughing, which I knew would be quite inappropriate for the time. We really were an assorted group of kids, or adults, if you want to get technical, but somehow, we've managed to keep together as a whole, which is more than important. And who – or what – is to blame for that?

A wide number of things, really: our parents, Hogwarts itself, the Sorting Hat….

I'd have to say that more than that; it was fate, a sheer chance that we ended up in the same year, the same house, and the same Dormitory. Being stuck with someone for seven years doesn't always lead to friendship, of course, but somehow, we managed to find a way to make it work for us.

I cast my eyes once more around the circle, catching each of the Marauders' attention separately. The little things that we had been doing just moments before came to a halt, a reverence falling over the lot of us.

My gaze dropped to the candles, and I blew lightly till darkness befell us.


End file.
